


Adherence

by Smoke3723



Series: Eagle 3: The Fighter [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassin's Creed: Forsaken, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smoke3723/pseuds/Smoke3723
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London, 1737.  Young Haytham Kenway is raised to join the family business of the Assassin Brotherhood.  Before he is even inducted into this ancient Order he finds himself caught in the eternal war against the Templars....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kenway House

_Haytham Edward Kenway_.

That was his name and he'd always had it. He always knew that Edward was Father's first name, he always knew that as the eldest child it was tradition that his middle name be that of his parent. He _always_ possessed this knowledge, the same way he'd always possessed ten fingers.

The earliest experience he did recall was walking into their brand new home in Bloomsbury. The piercing smell of newness was everywhere, the furnishings and fixtures were so beautiful, and it was.... _home_. Haytham would explore the rooms and corridors for days at a time, retracing his steps and re-enacting their discovery so that he could continuously feel the excitement.

Across the road from the Kenways' new home was the newly-built public gardens, filled with grass and shady trees and coloured flowers (at least during the warmer periods). When they installed a large statue of a royal-looking woman in the garden everyone called it Queen Anne's Square. He once overheard Father explaining the statue wasn't actually the old queen but Sophia Dorothea the current Queen Mother. Father then spoke of Sophia Dorothea but the words made no sense to a four-year-old boy.

Haytham could relate more to the story of his own family, as told by Mother. Edward Kenway had a Welsh mother and English father (who was rumoured to be of Italian blood). Edward's first marriage was to Caroline Scott and together they had a daughter, Jennifer Caroline Kenway. Haytham may have been told why Caroline was no longer in their household but he couldn't remember anyway.

In time Edward married again, this time to Theresa 'Tessa' Stephenson-Oakley who bore Edward two more children after Haytham: Irene Theresa and William Arthur. A fourth child did not survive. Tessa's ancestors came from Syria where people often had the dark skin, brown eyes and black hair that Haytham shared with Mother. Will also shared their slightly bronze skin and black hair but his eyes were blue; Irene had Father's blonde hair, white skin and blue eyes. Jenny's blue eyes, blonde hair and skin were different from Irene's.

Amongst Tessa's children only Haytham remembered Betty, their first governess. Irene remembered being introduced to Edith, Betty's replacement, though Will could not even remember that. Otherwise the household staff had remained unchanged in Haytham's lifetime: Mr Digweed the head butler, Mr Simpkin who rarely left Father's side and Miss Davy who rarely left Mother's, Mrs Searle and her assistant Laura who cooked the meals. There were several other servants but the children never got to talk to them.

Mother was always careful to emphasise how lucky they were to have wealth enough to be living in such a nice area of London in the 1720s. Here they were sheltered from most of the disease-causing filth that clogged most of the city and did not have to labour in the mines or the poorhouse just to get enough to eat. They employed staff who were treated with kindness and returned that kindness with their own. And above all, their family loved and respected each other as equals. Well, except for Jenny.

 

The young Haytham had originally mistaken Jenny for another of the household staff: she was a full-grown adult who sometimes acted as though living in this beautiful house was a chore. Yet even while living under that misapprehension Haytham understood that Jenny was 'the mean one'. Jenny would always call him _Hay_ , and even though the rest of the household quickly agreed to use his complete name Jenny alone would persist with the hated short version.

Haytham couldn't remember learning that Jenny was his half-sister, only that there was a time when he didn't have that information. The most solid memory he had of Jenny was asking her to play with him. This was in the time before Haytham could play with his younger siblings and Jenny always refused, not even promising to play later as Betty and Edith always did. So Haytham turned Jenny's stubbornness into a new game: he would repeatedly ask Jenny to play, repeating the question as soon as she gave the answer, and keep a count of the total refusals she gave. He had reached twenty when Jenny finally beat him; the bruises and welts she dealt to Haytham proved ample deterrent to future games.

It was after the beating that Haytham asked why she insisted on calling him _Hay_. She gave a cruel smile: "Because I prefer thinking of you as a weak, useless piece of straw." He couldn't hide the pain on his face as she gave her answer.

From that day on she didn't call him _Hay_ any more: it was always _Straw_.

 

Haytham found he didn't need to protect Irene from Jenny, although Will suffered the same unreasoned bullying that Haytham did. Will had embraced the short form of his name so Jenny called him _Won't_ ; but Will had his older brother to play with and so he didn't suffer as badly from Jenny's caustic tongue.

The brothers observed that Jenny's strange hatred was similar to that of the Dawsons. The Dawsons lived in the house adjacent to the Kenways: Mister and Missus Dawson plus their four children, all girls, and household staff. One day the Kenway children approached the Dawsons as they walked through Queen Anne's Square; before they could even say hello Mrs Dawson hushed her children and herded them away from the Kenways with angry looks.

Naturally they asked their parents why that would be. Father explained "Your skin is too dark for their liking."

Irene protested "But I don't have the dark skin, why don't they play with me?"

Father had to find the right answer. "It's not the colour that's the problem, not really; the Dawsons are unused to dark skin and so they are afraid it. Fear of the unknown can be forgiven: if one has no experience of something they cannot know if it is dangerous. But the Dawsons have been living beside us for years and have made no effort to learn if we truly are dangerous or if we are simply a normal family."

"Can't we show them we are safe?"

"We've tried son, but they have made their choice and it would be wrong of us to interfere."

 

Skin colour didn't seem to bother the Barretts, who occupied the other house next to the Kenways. The Barretts had eight children, including three girls, of assorted ages. At first Mother and Father would supervise their visits, coaching their children on appropriate etiquette and conversation. When they were satisfied Haytham and his siblings were permitted to visit the Barretts unchaperoned, which they generally did every Sunday afternoon. Haytham grew closest to Tom Barrett, while Irene and Will gravitated towards Claire and Henry. Depending on whatever game was fun that day, the six of them would play as a single group, two groups or in pairs.

One day, when Haytham and Tom were alone, Tom asked "Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"What they say about your father."

Haytham rolled his eyes. "I don't know what they say about Father, so how can I know if it's true or not?"

Tom looked around, as though he were about to say something naughty. In a low voice he whispered "Is it true your father used to be a pirate?"

It took Haytham several seconds to admit "I don't know."

Tom was obviously frustrated but before he could ask more questions Edith arrived to bring the Kenways home for the evening.

Haytham wasn't sure what to make of the conversation he had with Tom, so a few days later when he was alone with Jenny he asked "What do people say about us?"

"What do you mean, Straw?" Jenny replied absently.

"Just that. What do other people say about _us_?"

"You mean gossip."

Haytham shrugged at the unfamiliar word. "If you like."

"Why would you care about gossip? Aren't you a little too—"

"I _care_ ," Haytham insisted. Whenever he asked Jenny for information the answer was always the same: Haytham was either too young or too stupid (or, in one case, too _short_ ) to understand.

Jenny looked up to Haytham and studied him. "The Barretts said something, didn't they?"

"Tom said Father used to be a pirate."

Jenny gave that smile Haytham had learned to dread. "And what did you say?"

"The truth: I don't know."

"Then you'll find out." She turned back to her embroidery.

"When?!" Haytham asked with all his boyish impatience.

"Soon enough, I imagine. After all, you are Father's _eldest son_." She spat the title as though it left a horrid taste in her mouth.

"What does that mean? How is an eldest son different from an eldest daughter?"

That was the first time Haytham had ever heard Jenny laugh and it made him uncomfortable. Jenny asked "Don't you wonder why Irene never joins you for your outdoor lessons? Why she is always dumped here with me?" Jenny put her needlework down and stared at him. "It's because Father's great ideals of freedom and equality for all men do not extend to women."

Haytham spent the rest of the night trying to analyse the words Jenny had spoken and the meaning behind them. For some reason Haytham's education was special, at least in the sense that it was reserved only for a boy. But why a boy? What was wrong with Jenny? He knew first-hand that she could debate, eavesdrop and fight as dangerously as Haytham himself. If that was what she was capable of without having received any training, why had Jenny's obvious talent been neglected?

After bedtime Haytham shared the story with his brother. "This is why Jenny hates us, Will. She has seen the future and it favours _us_!"

"We can use it the next time Jenny's angry," Will told him, "When she's mean we simply say _we are Father's sons!_ I can't wait to see the look on her face!"

Part of Haytham warned it was wrong to feel this way towards anyone, even Jenny, but it was simply a reflex reaction that he could easily keep under control.

 

***

Of course Haytham already knew that Irene never attended their outdoor lessons but he didn't question that any more than he questioned why the adults never attended any lessons at all. Irene treated her secret subjects as a treasure she could guard from the boys and would say nothing about it. Edith explained Irene was being tutored in etiquette, speech, deportment, household administration and similar subjects.

So Haytham began paying more attention to his upbringing, trying to see the reason behind the routine. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday Haytham, Irene and Will were tutored in the 'book' subjects: writing, mathematics, history, literature and everything else that depended on thinking. On Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday Haytham and Will would be trained in the 'outdoor' subjects: athletics, weapons, stealth, equestrian and everything else that depended on physical movement. Outdoor subjects were taught by Father while the book subjects were taught by Old Mister Fayling (though they never called him that to his face).

Haytham was frightened of Old Mr Fayling because of an incident early in his tuition, before Irene and Will were old enough to join in. During the endless handwriting drills Haytham's right hand grew tired so he switched to his left. When Old Mr Fayling saw it he caned Haytham's left hand so badly he couldn't do climbing training the next day. When Father heard the story he grew thoughtful. "Haytham, how long have you been using your left hand like that?"

Haytham shrugged. "Whenever my right hand gets tired."

"And you don't have a problem with using your left?"

"I have to hold the quill slightly higher to avoid smudging but that's all."

Father gave that unique smile of paternal pride. "Haytham, can you use _only_ your right hand when Mr Fayling is looking, and _only_ your left hand when he's not? When it's better, of course."

Young Haytham interpreted this as a trick they were playing on Old Mr Fayling and was only too happy to agree. He carefully practised his letters so that there was no difference between those produced by his left and right hands. During weapons training, Father made him use alternating hands on alternating days so that each developed equally. It was only when Irene and Will joined him that Haytham understood his ambidexterity was something special: both Irene and Will were right-handed, and even though Will trained to use his left hand it was not something that came naturally as with Haytham.

Fortunately Old Mr Fayling didn't accompany the Kenways when they travelled to mainland Europe; instead his place was taken by Mother, who would teach them the language and culture of whatever country they were in that day. Every year they departed in June, spending 3 weeks in France, 6 weeks in Spain, and then another 3 weeks in France on the way home. Foreign languages proved to be the subjects Haytham loathed the most: French was written with too many 'incorrect' letters and Spanish was pronounced with too many new sounds. But Father always made the family (even the staff) speak French in France and Spanish in Spain, and if they tried to use English outside the classroom he would delay their journey for an extra day until they obeyed.


	2. Eyes of the Eagle

  Whenever the children had lessons with Mother or Old Mr Fayling, Father would always summon them after dinner and speak with them in the drawing room about their education. Did the children enjoy their lessons? What did they learn? Where did they learn it from, and who provided that information? Where did _th_ _at_ person learn it from? And so on.

With mathematics and natural philosophy it was easy to demonstrate the accuracy (or otherwise) of their studies: they replicated what the books were describing and examined their own results, and Father was satisfied. History and religion were harder: they tried to assemble all the different books they could find from different eras and nations that all said the same thing, or at least a narrative consistent enough to identify the truth behind the embellishment. Father was unimpressed: "How do you know all those books are not repeating the same, erroneous tale?"

The frustrated Irene was on the verge of a tantrum. "Because Old Mister Fayling said...." She trailed off when Father raised his hand in a stop position to silence her.

"Irene, if I wanted to know what Mr Fayling said about something I would ask him. If I wanted to know what all your books said I would read them. I want to know what it says _here_ , and _here_." Father indicated his head and then his heart.

Haytham only began to understand Father's questions when he realised the monsters had never lived under his bed. If people were afraid of something they would make up stories that explained why it was so frightening and that no-one should touch it, and if no-one challenged those stories they would end up as truth. Father wanted his children to determine which stories were true and which were simply fun. Haytham could just about _feel_ his mind expanding with this revelation.

At their next session with Old Mr Fayling Haytham decided to seek the answers Father was always pestering them for. The first book they studied that day was the Bible and so Haytham asked his questions: who wrote down these stories? How do we know he was writing truth or fiction? Why should they trust this total stranger speaking across the centuries from behind a quill?

As the blood vessel on Old Mr Fayling's forehead became larger and larger, Irene and Will failed to conceal their giggles. The only answer Old Mr Fayling gave was ten lashes across the knuckles and telling Father of Haytham's insolence. Irene and Will didn't play with him that day, lest doing so somehow infect them with the stigma of disobedience that now tainted Haytham. Their rejection crushed him; it was only after Father punished them for ostracising their brother that they began to speak to Haytham again.

That evening Father only spoke with Haytham after dinner. Haytham explained he was trying to get the answers Father was always asking for, only to receive a beating from Old Mister Fayling.

Edward smiled a proud, paternal smile. "Your questions were not wrong, Haytham, and you are not responsible for how Mr Fayling reacted to them. But something you must remember is that not everyone can handle questioning all the assumptions their life was built upon. As you saw, Mr Fayling became angry when you confronted him with it. Don't impose the truth on him: it is easier to stay silent than to endure the cane."

 

Father's difficult, probing questions weren't just about the accuracy of their textbooks. One day the family went to attend a performance at the Theatre Royal; as they walked from their carriage to the theatre entrance they were swarmed by the dirty beggars and flower sellers, desperate for coin. These strange people frightened the children so much they could barely look at them.

Then Mother shrieked: one of the dirty strangers had her cornered. Before Haytham could even look up Father had grabbed the man and forced him to the ground with a dagger at his throat. Everyone on the street stared at Father and the thief he had subdued. The man's hair was so long and scruffy it could have housed several rats and his bones poked out from under his skin. "Please!....Please mister, don't hurt me!...."

Father studied the man, took the dagger away from his neck, then pulled him to his feet and pinned him against the nearby wall. Father spoke with him in a soft voice but what they said was lost amongst the chatter of the pointing spectators. Whatever Father said made the thief more frightened and defensive. At last Father pushed the thief away: "Then go and sin no more."

The children were quickly hustled inside, where Mother and Father calmed them and ensured no-one was injured. The performance commenced, the family went home. Once they settled Father summoned Haytham and Will into his private study.

"Did the thief spoil your evening, boys?"

They both shook their heads. Will crowed "That was the best bit!"

"Tell me, what did you think when I let the thief go?"

The boys looked at each other and considered their answers. Will answered first: "I was glad he was gone, sir, but I was afraid he would come back."

Father's proud smile indicated the answer was correct. "Did you notice how he surrendered as soon as I resisted? That indicated he wasn't a determined thief, just after whatever was within reach. When the slightest obstacle was presented he fled." Father let the words sink in. "Haytham?"

"I....I wanted him to be hurt, sir. At first. Then, when he pleaded, I was glad he was spared."

Father explained, "What you felt was first a desire for revenge, and then a realisation that doing so would be unjust. Justice and revenge both come from the same desire to punish the wicked but revenge is unrestrained punishment, and left unchecked it will harm the innocent as well as the guilty."

"How do we know the difference between justice and revenge?"

Father considered the question. "Justice is always proportional to the original wrong, but revenge always demands the maximum penalty. I find the easiest way to tell the difference is to ensure your anger is cold before rendering judgement."

Several days later, after Haytham had consciously processed that night and the impromptu lessons from Father, he realised he never saw the dagger on Father's belt. In fact, Haytham had never actually seen Father draw the dagger or return it to its sheath; in the instant the thief appeared so did the dagger, and once Father had let the thief go the weapon had vanished.

 

***

So Haytham divided the two types of education he was receiving. Old Mr Fayling's learning was broad and practical; Father's learning emphasised absolute objective truth that remained the same regardless of who was recording it. Haytham preferred Father's learning; questions were always welcomed, the process of uncovering and confirming a fact was just as important as knowing it, and wrong answers were corrected rather than punished. Haytham did not understand Old Mr Fayling's hostility to Father's learning: wasn't it better to discover and correct mistakes than persist in believing something that wasn't true?

Haytham's first experience in subjective truth came with the high fever, stuffed nose, red eyes and bad cough. On the second day Edith insisted on looking inside of Haytham's mouth and instantly announced "Measles!" Suddenly Haytham was confined to the guest bedroom and only Mother was permitted to visit him; when Mother did come, she brought only more school work and warnings not to do anything physical. When the rash appeared Haytham asked why he needed to be isolated.

Mother explained "I had the measles when I was your age; I watched how one sick person spread it amongst the healthy by their very presence. We want to stop that happening to your brother and sisters."

"But Edith says I'll be okay once the spots fade. What's wrong with some itchy spots?"

"Because if the spots form on the inside of your ear you'll lose your hearing. That's what happened to my older sister when my family had the measles."

Haytham's brain understood and accepted the objective truth: he would rather be locked up alone than risk being responsible for rendering Irene or Will deaf. What surprised him was that his heart did not: it insisted that being alone was bad, that Mother was cruel for leaving him all alone with nothing but homework for entertainment. Even when Haytham looked back on his childhood in later years, his heart insisted that the quarantine was the root cause of all the pain that followed even though his head knew that it was simply the first event in a chain.

With nothing else to do all day, Haytham analysed these feelings and tried to make sense of them. This must be the sort of subjective truth that Old Mr Fayling clung to: an emotion that was honestly formed and honestly felt but could not be used to guide decisions the way objective truth was. Yet these emotions were as much a part of Haytham as his own arms, and he could hardly be expected to cut them off. He would need to sort the healthy emotions from the dangerous ones and then decide whether to indulge or contain them.

Haytham realised that his impromptu efforts at philosophy were creating more questions for him than answers. Now he understood why people like Old Mr Fayling preferred the world of shallow, emotional truth: it allowed them to avoid the long, exhausting and frustrating process of thinking for hours on a question whose answer only raised a dozen more difficult questions.

 

In an effort to relieve the desperate boredom and loneliness of quarantine, Haytham pretended that he could see through the walls of the house. He would concentrate on a wall or floor where he could hear the familiar voices of Father or Old Mr Fayling, then 'see' precisely what they were doing despite the barrier. It was during this game that something very strange and very scary happened: the world began to lose its colour.

At first the green foliage in the paintings and windows faded to an indistinct grey, but then all the other colours of the world vanished as well. Haytham screamed for Mother, fearing the measles had grown on his eyes and was stealing his eyesight. Yet when Mother arrived Haytham's discoloured vision perceived her as glowing a cool, soothing blue. This was something so abrupt that Haytham didn't hear Mother asking what was wrong at first. Once he composed himself Haytham explained what was happening to him.

Mother wasn't concerned at all at the description of Haytham's malfunctioning eyes. "Don't worry, darling. It's called Eagle Vision and it just means you're growing up. Both your father and I come from families that have it."

"But what _is_ it?" Haytham urged.

"A rare and very special gift. When you're feeling better your father will explain it better than I."

Haytham slumped with frustration. It was almost as if Mother were telling him he was too young, stupid or short to understand.

Instead of finishing his sums Haytham experimented with his Eagle Vision. When he relaxed colour would return to the world and when he concentrated in just the right way the colour would fade again. The greyscale Eagle Vision produced had the same level of detail regardless of illumination, allowing Haytham to clearly see and even read in complete darkness.

Haytham was eager to tell Mother of his discovery but when she arrived it was with bad news. The Russian flu had arrived at Queen Anne's Square and most of the household were affected. The isolation that protected the rest of the family from the measles had simultaneously protected Haytham from the flu and so his solitary existence would continue until the more deadly disease had passed. Mother appeared to be unaffected by the Russian flu and so she would continue to visit Haytham but the conversations always revolved around what was happening outside the guest bedroom.

Then one morning Haytham heard a loud wailing coming from the bedrooms. At last Mother arrived in tears and explained the flu had gone but had taken Irene and Will as it left. Haytham couldn't believe it: his reluctant quarantine meant he hadn't even spoken to them, let alone seen them ill. How could his little brother and sister have succumbed when everyone else had survived?

Haytham decided to take full advantage of his new ability. Late into the night, when silence descended on the house, Haytham entered Eagle Vision and left his bedroom. The few sounds of activity came from downstairs, so Haytham silently walked to the bedroom he shared with Will. When he entered Haytham noticed that Will's bed glowed yellow, the same way Mother had glowed blue.

Will was clearly lying in his bed (Haytham had seen the pattern of his body under the sheets too often to be deceived) but the sheets were over his face. Haytham pulled them back and saw Will lying there, apparently asleep. Haytham went to shake his brother awake but Will's skin was stone cold. In order to see Will in colour Haytham needed light so he found the bedside lamp the boys shared and returned to normal vision. William looked as cold as he felt, and even his clothes and sheets had no warmth. Splotches of blood that had flowed from the boy's mouth and nose were still there.

Haytham shook his brother, whispering "Will? Will, wake up! It's Haytham!" But he already knew there would be no response. He doused the lamp and returned it to its table, angled exactly as he'd found it. In Eagle Vision Will no longer looked gold: he looked black and white like everything else in the room.

He sat there for what felt like a long time, in the grey silence of William's deathbed. Finally Haytham kissed Will on the forehead as Mother always did when bidding them goodnight, then carefully replaced the sheet over the body. Still in Eagle Vision he walked next door to Irene's bed, pulled back the sheet and confirmed she was in the same state as William. Haytham noticed that Irene's golden glow faded as he sat down next to her, repeating his silent vigil.

Haytham did not light a lamp to inspect Irene, nor did he try to rouse her. Instead, after what felt like the same amount of time he spent with William, he kissed her goodbye and replaced the sheet that covered her body. He would have run back to the guest bedroom except the endless lessons with Father overrode that instinct. Instead Haytham walked slowly and noiselessly back across the hall and closed the door behind him. Only then, in private, did he cry himself to sleep.

 

When Haytham was finally permitted to emerge from the guest room four weeks had passed. The Russian flu had claimed not only Irene and William but Tom and Henry Barrett as well. Haytham offered his condolences and attended their funeral; but the Barrett house felt utterly empty without his closest friends. Slowly and surely Haytham drifted away from his neighbours.

On the day of the Kenway funeral strange men with elaborate child-sized wooden boxes arrived. They carried the empty boxes to the bedrooms (first Will then Irene) and carried thefilled boxes out again. Haytham's heart choked on what his brain already knew: the coffins held the decaying remains of his full siblings. Edith found him and dressed him in a stiff, formal suit then instructed Haytham to stay with Mother and Father. They rode in the funeral carriage to the church, met dozens of adults Haytham didn't know(and never saw again) then took their places for the service. They read from the Bible, sang hymns and listened to the minister pronounce words of consolation—though even Haytham could sense the utter lack of sincerity behind them.

Had so many died from the Russian flu that they could only have the funeral on Tuesday 4 December 1733? Did his family deliberately want to avoid anything that would detract from their grief? Or had the trauma of losing Irene and William caused everyone to forget? Whatever the reason, Haytham was forced to spend his eighth birthday watching his baby brother and sister being placed into the ground and covered with dirt.

 


	3. Recruit

When 1734 commenced Haytham explained to Father of his Eagle Vision, how he could see in the dark if he wished and how certain people would glow blue or yellow or white. Father seemed to be proud at this development, and he spent some time guiding Haytham in his new ability.

"When people glow blue that means they are friendly to you and you can act freely around them. If people glow red that means they are hostile to you; don't draw their attention if you can help it, and use your stealth training to avoid their gaze. If people glow neither red nor blue, it means they won't physically harm you if you anger them but they won't be quick to forgive you either."

"What about yellow glows?"

"They represent a goal or something else you need to examine. Once you have made your choice to pursue a certain objective it will always appear gold in Eagle Vision. With practise, you'll even be able to perceive a golden trail that will lead you to where you need to be. And finally, there's the white glow. This indicates safety or refuge, somewhere you can hide if you need to vanish from prying eyes. I don't know how Eagle Vision is able to reveal all this information but it always does."

"But what _is_ it? Mother said it was something only our family had."

"Not _only_ our family, but it's rare enough to be considered unique to us. Do you remember the stories you were told about the Greek heroes? Of men whose fathers were gods?"

"Like Perseus and Heracles."

"Well son, their divine paternity gave those men Eagle Vision. And not just them, but their children and grandchildren as well. Thousands of years ago the great-great-grandparents of the Kenways were half-divine, and so we have Eagle Vision. However, this is a family secret; you cannot reveal you have Eagle Vision to anyone unless I am present. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir."

The warning wasn't necessary: since the Russian flu Haytham didn't have any friends he _could_ share his secrets with. Haytham never understood why he was forbidden from telling the staff or the Barretts about his training, only that if his tongue wagged Father would have Jenny use her needles to keep it in place.

 

***

In October 1737 Haytham began the metamorphosis into an adult. Patches of black, wiry hair began appearing everywhere—except on his face, which sprouted only pimples. His body began to stink like a sweaty horse and Haytham insisted on bathing both himself and his clothes twice a week to keep the hideous new odour under control. His bones and muscles stretched so hard he perpetually ached; his hands and feet enlarged so fast that he became a bumbling, clumsy oaf; and he could never eat or sleep enough to fuel all these changes. Father explained what puberty was and why it happened, and the strange new sensations that would go along with it.

The physical changes were not Haytham's stand-out memory of his teenage years; rather it was the change in routine that occurred soon afterwards. Father explained that Haytham was now old enough to end his lessons with Old Mr Fayling. "From now on you will be tutored by Mister Robert Crane. He will take you for your outdoor lessons as well as academics."

Haytham looked to the floor in disappointment. "Does this mean you won't take me for training any more?"

Father laughed. "No son: we will still train together on Saturdays if you wish. But Mister Crane will take you Monday through Friday for all your other subjects. For the first few days I will be sitting with you to help you adjust to the new schedule."

Mr Crane was a burly white-haired man covered with smallpox scars and a large patch over his right eye. When they were formally introduced Father explained "Haytham, you may speak about family secrets with Mister Crane; your training, your Eagle Vision. But _only_ when no-one will overhear you."

"Yes sir."

Mr Crane asked "Master Haytham, do you know why you are being trained?"

"Only that I am to succeed Father in the family business." Haytham didn't know how he came upon that information but he'd learned it alongside Irene and Will.

"And what is the Kenway family business, Master Haytham?"

"I don't know, Mr Crane. Although....the neighbours say Father used to be a pirate."

The two adults shared a knowing smile. Father said "They're mistaken son. The Kenway family has always been guardians of free will."

 

Father and Mr Crane began their story 600 years ago, when King Richard the Lionheart travelled to Jerusalem to capture the Holy Land from the Moslems. During those Crusades an order called the Knights Templar was formed, who were successful not only on the battlefield but in politics and finance as well. What no-one suspected was that the Templars had their own goal of placing the entire world under their spurred heel, by fair means or foul.

The Moslem Assassins discovered the Templars' wicked plots and put a stop to them. When the Crusades ended so did the Assassins—at least, that's what they wanted the world to think. In truth the Assassins were hiding in plain sight, spreading to Europe and continuing their work to preserve every individual's freedom to choose their own destiny. Even though the Knights Templar were publicly destroyed two centuries later their conspiracies and members remained.

Now that Haytham understood why his education was so important, it added a new incentive for him to excel. Knowing that he would succeed Father in secret work that involved swords excited his boyish sense of adventure. To know that he would be working to improve the world, to end the suffering that all those people without wealthy parents were enduring.... That excited his adult instinct for justice.

 

Instead of the wooden practise swords Mr Crane tested Haytham's ability with a _foil_ , a blunted rapier made of a new type of metal that would flex instead of injure. He was impressed with Haytham's technique, commenting that experience was the only thing Haytham lacked. When Haytham wasn't working to improve his physical skills, Mr Crane tutored him in the ways of the Assassins.

"The creed of the Assassins is deceptively simple." He recited an Arabic phrase and explained "Traditionally it is rendered as _nothing is true, everything is permitted_ but a more accurate translation is _nothing is fixed, everything is possible_. It is not the words that form the creed but the meaning behind them. Nothing is true or fixed because morality and law derive from flawed, mortal men; not from a perfect, divine source. We must examine the rules we abide by and ask _why is this so?_ Are the decrees of a king law because he is innately flawless, or because society has entrusted him with making the difficult decisions of where to guide his nation?"

Haytham added "And if a king's judgement in those decisions is found wanting, should he not be dismissed and replaced?"

Mr Crane smiled. "Very good. And everything is permitted because we are the architects of our own destiny, because—either as an individual or society as a whole—it is we who plan and implement our actions. Yet we cannot act brazenly, for in taking action we accept all the consequences that follow. If our actions harm others, directly or indirectly, we are responsible for them and must make restitution.

"The rules of the Order are as strict as they are clear. The first is _spare the innocent_. Those who are ignorant of the war against the Templars, or those whose only crime is to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, are under our protection. The Assassins fight tyrants, and only tyrants inflict misery on those who have done nothing to deserve it.

"Our next rule is one I've mentioned before: _hide in plain sight_. Walk seamlessly amongst the people, watch and listen regardless of who they are, discover what troubles the common folk and so uncover the activities of those who would exploit them. In this way we do not succumb to the arrogance of the Templars and remain one with the people we serve.

"The final rule should be obvious: _never compromise the Brotherhood_. Even if we reveal ourselves to a non-Templar, people only understand the Assassins as killers-for-hire. Our operations will then be thwarted by those who are innocent, leaving us trapped between what must be done and those we must protect. The only time anyone can be aware of our presence is when they realise we have succeeded."

Haytham was surprised that Mr Crane didn't ask him to properly recite the creed and he asked Father about it later that evening. Father explained "The creed is not a rule like in mathematics, Haytham; it is an observation of human nature, something we must be mindful of. The creed is not doctrine, not a formula to be applied in every conceivable instance. And certainly not a conclusion that should override facts. There is a parable of one Assassin who took the creed too literally, becoming arrogant and reckless. His mentor tried to indulge him but eventually this Assassin killed the innocent and left his brothers to die after he exposed their presence. Finally the mentor could tolerate him no more: even though he was the most gifted of the order the Assassin died a traitor's death."

 

As well as standard drills and exercises Mr Crane would take Haytham onto the streets of London. Here Mr Crane would require Haytham to demonstrate his prowess at blending into a crowd and listening to the snippets of conversation that people were saying. Then Haytham was to surreptitiously empty certain pockets, bring all the contents to Mr Crane and then return the swag to where it came from without being noticed.

After another day of practical thieving skills, Mr Crane said "Good work Master Haytham, now I want to assess your abilities during a chase." He pointed at Haytham and screamed "Caught you thief! Guards!!"

Haytham's eyes went wide: he looked around and saw two angry City Watchmen charging at him. Haytham bolted in the opposite direction and the chase was on; he couldn't concentrate enough to enter Eagle Vision so he had to rely on his own observations to shake them off. Haytham turned down some blind corners in order to get out of sight, only to find himself in a dead-end with buildings on 3 sides. Without pausing to think Haytham jumped onto a wall and started climbing the building. Behind him he heard the Watch's heavy boots and screaming "There he is! Get him!!" Stones were thrown in an effort to impede Haytham's progress.

Haytham reached the top of the building and ran via rooftop, jumping the gap between buildings in an effort to put as much distance between himself and the Watch as he could. At last he had several seconds lead on the Watchmen: after rounding the next corner he stopped running, walked up to a stall and looked at the wares. When the Watch came running down the road they were looking for a fleeing thief, not someone standing around examining apples. The Watchmen continued in the presumed direction of their quarry.

Once Haytham was confident it was safe he walked back in the direction he came from, only to find Mr Crane appearing from nowhere. "Now Master Haytham, how many look-outs saw you on the rooftops?"

Haytham snorted. "None. Why would the Watch put men on the rooftops?"

"It's not _only_ the Watch you need to worry about. I'm afraid you've failed this test." Mr Crane looked around, saw what he was looking for, then pushed Haytham with both hands. "Cut-purse! Watchmen, to me!!"

 

***

One day Mr Crane didn't bring the training foils, rather a wooden chest the size of a shoebox. "You're ready to learn how to use _this_ ," Crane advised. He opened the chest to reveal a bracer that had a large protective metal plate along the top and a strange mechanism along the bottom. "This is an Assassin Gauntlet, the signature weapon of our order. You wear it as a normal gauntlet, under your sleeves but it conceals a blade designed for killing without drawing attention."

Haytham asked "Is this how I recognise other Assassins?"

"No, because the Templars have been known to replicate them. Our forebears used to brand their ring finger, but the problem with permanent marks is that you can't remove them to conceal your identity in times of need. I'll show you how to recognise fellow Assassins in time; for now we concentrate on the Gauntlet."

Mr Crane rolled up his own sleeves to reveal his own Gauntlets. He flicked his wrist and below his hand came a long, thin stiletto blade designed for deep penetration. He let Haytham examine it, then flicked his wrist again and the blade returned to its stowed position.

"This is the classic Hidden Blade," Crane explained, "By blending into a crowd you can walk up behind a man, plunge this into his chest and still have several seconds before anyone realises what's happened. This is how we traditionally dispatch our targets: utterly undetected in a public space with more suspects than can ever be investigated."

Haytham's practise Gauntlet housed only a blunted training blade but it sufficed for learning the device's mechanics and techniques in open combat or when hidden amongst a crowd. Once Crane was satisfied with Haytham's ability in the Hidden Blade, he and Father brought out a chest that contained many different types of Assassin Gauntlets. "The Hidden Blade proved very successful and over the years it has been improved and refined with all sorts of additions. Some were even crafted by Leonardo da Vinci himself. Examine each of the variants; take your time and your pleasure, and discover which best complements your own technique."

The first Gauntlet Haytham picked up housed a Hidden Gun, literally a miniature flintlock housed in the gauntlet. Haytham didn't like this variant: he had seen what happened when a pistol misfired and preferred not to lose his hand to a temperamental weapon.

Father demonstrated the next Gauntlet. "My personal favourite, the Hidden Dagger. It functions as a Hidden Blade, but by using a slightly different trigger the blade is ejected rather than extended. This allows you to adopt a more natural fighting stance when stealth fails."

The next Gauntlet looked like a smaller Hidden Dagger with a long trailing rope attached to the blade. "This is a Hidden Dagger variant from China: the ejected blade is attached to the Gauntlet with a rope. There's a whole discipline on how to use it to trip foes, choke them from a distance...." Haytham found that the mechanism for winding the rope back into the Gauntlet was too fiddly and cumbersome for his liking.

The fourth variant was a dart gun. The tiny darts were coated with a poison that rendered the target nauseated, dizzy, and then sent him into a fit before he fell unconscious. The advantage here was not only the silent, non-lethal incapacity of a foe but a large distraction that would draw the attention of his companions.

"Typically the dart gun is combined with a Poisoned Blade." Crane produced another gauntlet. "The Blade in this one isn't designed for reach but to deliver a dose of poison. You can actually combine a standard Hidden Blade with a Poisoned Blade; one trigger for the standard blade, another for the poisoned version."

The final variant was a stiff hook on the end of a long metal baton. This allowed the user to add an extra foot to his reach and provided a back-up means of grabbing walls when free-running. Unfortunately the added weight of the hook interfered with Haytham's balance during combat and he abandoned it.

Haytham liked the versatility offered with a Hidden Blade, Poisoned Blade and dart gun so he combined these features into his right gauntlet. When simply extended the Hidden Dagger had a longer reach than the standard Hidden Blade, so Haytham used a Hidden Dagger on his left wrist so he could easily select the length of the blade he would use. "When you're accepted as a true Assassin, Master Haytham, you will be presented with your chosen Gauntlets. Until then we use the dummies."

The lure of these new toys caused Haytham to redouble his efforts to succeed his beloved father.


	4. First Blood

  They called it the Great Frost. On Christmas Day 1739 snow began to fall; a few days later a gale blew the various collier and grain barges into the docks, where both the ships and their cargoes were dashed. Everyone said it snowed for 40 days and 40 nights: it was actually more like 39 days and 38 nights and though the rate of fall eased and then intensified several times it certainly didn't stop. The Thames solidified and frost fairs were held upon it; across the country anyone who had travelled for Christmas was stranded. For the Kenways this included Mr Digweed, who was with his family in Herefordshire.

The snow finally stopped falling in the first week of February 1740. People began to shovel the endless white powder from the streets and about a week later the area around Queen Anne's Square was clear enough for carriages. By Monday 18 February it appeared the cold had started to turn, so it was on this night that Haytham succumbed to his teenage appetite and raided the kitchen.

Whenever Mrs Seale caught him eating between meals she would berate Haytham for his gluttony, reinforcing her words with the cane. So Haytham took full advantage of his Assassin education and Eagle Vision: once the staff had retired from their duties Haytham would silently sneak out of his room and fill his stomach with what he called an _English_ _bocadillo_. One slice of bread was used as the foundation for a stack of sliced meat, cheese or whatever else was good to eat without cooking, piled as high as Haytham dared. A second slice of bread was placed on top of the stack to make it easy to grip. It was nourishing and required little preparation, making it easier for Haytham to remove the traces of his activities.

Thanks to the lingering heat of the evening's cooking, the kitchen was distinctly warmer than the corridors. With Digweed unable to perform his midnight rounds from the West Country, Haytham decided to put off the freezing journey back to his room as long as possible. Slowly and deliberately he made sure every crumb that he dropped was retrieved and placed in the bin. As Haytham worked he heard dogs barking in the distance but paid it no mind—no doubt a rat had strayed into the neighbours' kennels yet again. As soon as he dismissed the barking Haytham realised the dogs were not barking at all. They would not cease yapping for anything short of a fat, juicy bone, so this behaviour made him....not _afraid_ exactly, just certain that something was wrong. No-one visited the kennels after dark.

Haytham silently moved to the window that overlooked the kennels. He was still in Eagle Vision, so the red auras were as plain as day. _Red_ _for danger_ _._ Haytham knew the punishment for his illicit snack was nothing compared to the consequences of delaying the alarm. He ran noiselessly to his parents' room and knocked on the door, softly yet urgently calling "Father! Intruders are approaching the house!"

Edward opened the door, sword in hand. "Did you see how many?"

"Three red auras at least. They're approaching from the kennels in cover formation."

"Wake Jenny and the others, and get them into the public gardens as quickly and silently as you can."

They both left the bedroom in opposite directions as Mother whispered an urgent " _Edward!!_ " as if her husband were abandoning her.

With long, silenced strides Haytham went first to Jenny's room and looked in the keyhole; she was lying down in bed, apparently asleep. Haytham opened the unlocked door and shook her awake; at first she was confused at being woken but Haytham's violation of her bedroom and the look on his face warned her that danger was coming. "We have to wake the others and get them into the square."

Jenny paused only to put some footwear on her bare feet, then went directly for the staff quarters. She was moving without disguising her footsteps but Haytham had not told her about the need for secrecy. When the sound of combat rang through the halls they knew battle had been joined; Jenny roused the women's dorm while Haytham roused the men. The two groups met each other as they moved back to the main hall; the sounds of fighting came from the billiard room but Haytham signalled for silence and they moved through the hall unmolested.

Haytham lingered at the door as he checked all the staff had been safely evacuated. Then he heard a woman's scream coming from upstairs and realised it could only be Mother. Haytham ran up the stairs and back to his parents' room: one of the thugs had his blade raised and was stomping towards his cowering Mother. With silent footsteps Haytham moved forward, grabbed the man's neck and wrung it like a chicken. The intruder fell instantly to the ground; Haytham didn't have time to process that he just murdered a man as he was too busy going to Mother.

Tessa was shaking, unable to take her eyes off the corpse that now lay in front of her. Haytham tried to whisper "Mother? Mother, we must go!" She barely moved; Haytham took her hands in his and slowly helped her to her feet. Mother's grip became steel and Haytham led her out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

The noise of combat kept coming from the billiard room. Once Haytham had escorted Mother to the front door he explained "Jenny and the others are outside" and tried to pull his hand away. Mother only squeezed his hands tighter, her eyes filling with the most horrid fear. "Mother please! Father needs me!" He tried to pull free of her grip.

" _No!_ " There was only fear and panic in Mother's eyes. The more Haytham tried to pull away the more she tried to pull him towards her. Haytham realised she was beyond reason: at last he pushed her away, causing her to stumble backward and land on her rump. He met her eyes apologetically, only for a moment, and then turned to the billiard room.

 

They called it the billiard room because of the table that typically sat in its centre. Since the Frost the billiard table had been stowed against the wall so Haytham and Mr Crane could train indoors. This formed a wide, open area perfect for combat.

There were six of them—well, seven if you counted the motionless heap on the floor. They all wore black suits and the masks used at fancy-dress balls: ornate eye coverings and caricatured noses attached to hats and wigs, concealing the hair. Three wore kerchiefs over their mouths, the same three who held defensive daggers in one hand and illuminating lamps in the other. The remaining three carried sabres.

In one hand Edward Kenway held his own sabre, in another a dagger identical to the one the eighth intruder had brandished against Tessa. Apparently Edward had taken this smaller weapon from the seventh intruder when the original owner no longer needed it. The lantern-bearers took the occasional ineffective swipe at Edward only if he got too far away from the sword-fighters.

Edward did not simply fight, he _danced_. He feinted an attack against one, who would execute the appropriate parry; a flanking attacker would then move to intercept Edward's actual attack, only to find that Edward twisted his body at the last moment to dodge the strike; and finally the third attacker would aim at Edward's blind spot only to find his blade ringing against Edward's own. By then Edward's original target, the one he feinted, would take the opening but Edward would pivot to direct the blow against one of the intruder's own comrades. While the two intruders defended against each other Edward would feint an attack against the third, who would execute the appropriate parry....

Re-aim, dodge, block and _squelch!_ Edward jammed his dagger into the arm of one victim. The man cried in pain and Edward used him as a human shield against a second attacker; Edward pushed the body into the second attacker and turned to the third. With one swordsman dead and the other pinned under his corpse, Edward focussed his attention on the last major obstacle of the fight.

The smash of a lantern should have been a warning but in the hyper-focus of combat not even the lantern's owner noticed. Haytham would later realise the attacker under the swordsman's corpse wasn't another swordsman but one of the lantern-bearers. When the corpse bowled into him the lantern had been knocked from his hand and its burning oil spilled onto the wooden floor. In the precious seconds between Edward focussing exclusively on the swordsman in front of him and the tongue of flame jumping up from nowhere, the remaining swordsman had circled around unseen by either Kenway. He knocked Edward against the wall and drove his blade through his target's back.

" _Father!!_ " Haytham screamed. It had taken eight of them to bring Edward Kenway down and three of those had perished in the attempt, but even Edward could not defend against that many forever.

The murderer wore a red mask and conical hat to conceal his head, but he didn't wear a kerchief and his ears were exposed. They were pointed, round things that stuck out of his head like a pair of sails; combined with the swordsman's mask and hat they made him look like a demonic Mister Punch.

Mr Punch's last remaining companion (whom Haytham designated Joan) approached Haytham, ready for an easy kill. Haytham raised his empty fists as he didn't even have a practise blade. Joan raised his sword for a blow that was more show than substance: Haytham somersaulted past him, towards one of the corpses, hoping to grab one of the blades the swordsmen had used. Instead his overgrown body caused him to lose his position and he came out of the somersault too far to one side. Joan was standing over him, raising his blade to deliver the death blow to Haytham.

But Haytham had not missed his destination completely: a sword hilt lay just within arm's reach, on the ground between Joan's two legs. Haytham grabbed it and lifted the blade as though it were a club, right into Joan's groin. There was a scream and Joan's blood sprayed like a red Versailles fountain. A ruptured major artery meant Joan was dead before Haytham got to his feet. Haytham realised the scream had not come from Joan but from the entrance to the billiard room. He looked to see Mother standing at the doorway, backing away and falling to the ground.

Haytham spun when he heard the next sound. When Mr Punch had killed Edward, his blade had gone through the target's torso and embedded itself in the wall. Only now, after Joan had fallen, did Punch manage to pull his blade free. Edward Kenway fell unceremoniously to the floor.

Haytham spun the sword in his hand to try and get familiar with the strange weapon's weight and balance in the seconds before Punch came into range. He jumped into Eagle Vision only long enough to confirm that Punch was the only man still in the billiard room. Haytham didn't try to account for Punch's accomplices: his only goal was the man who had driven a blade into Father's heart.

Haytham made the opening strike that Punch easily blocked, riposting not with his blade but his fist. Haytham failed to duck the blow that made him stagger backward; he recovered and then knelt low, ducking a swipe from Punch and then extending his arm to its limit to slash at Punch's leg. The blow struck hard on Punch's bony knee; the actual injury may have been no more than flesh but it threw Punch off-balance enough for Haytham to jump slightly to the side for a better position.

Punch stepped back and Haytham stepped forward. As Haytham circled he glanced at the floor behind Punch, where the fire was spreading from the floor and towards the wall. Punch was utterly unafraid of this hazard, no doubt expecting that Haytham would either die or flee before the flames began to interfere. But Haytham was not glancing at the fire: he was glancing at the pool of Joan's blood that was gathering nearby. He was also observing how Punch was shifting his weight; Punch maintained the correct stance with his injured leg forward, but he was making his uninjured back leg carry the load.

Haytham deliberately breathed in and then out to refocus, then began a simple attack routine: a predictable attack, deceive and counter-deceive that required a step backward in order to avoid a touch. As predicted Punch took a step backward and his load-bearing leg stepped in the blood of his partner. Punch immediately lost his balance and Haytham went in his actual attack routine, forcing the sabre from Punch's hand and knocking his foe to the ground.

Haytham jammed his foot on the murderer's elbow, ignoring the heat from the approaching fire. Punch screamed as his hand touched the flames, twisting and struggling with all the desperation of a man being burned alive. The struggle threw Haytham off-balance and he fell to the ground; his sword was still in hand but Punch was on top of him before he could wind up a swing. It took Haytham a minute to realise what Punch was brandishing: a blade his hand found in the fire, the dagger his companion had dropped with his lantern, a weapon that had spent the last few minutes lying in the flames.

Punch drove the blade towards Haytham's face; Haytham brought his hands up to grab Punch's hand and block the attack. Although the blow was negated enough force remained for the hot blade to touch the left side of Haytham's mouth, just below his nose and over his lips to the base of his chin. Haytham screamed at first, then drove his nails into Punch's blistered hand. Now Punch pulled away, the sharp blade cutting the line of burning flesh. Haytham spun out from under Punch and returned to his feet, his empty left hand going to the bleeding wound. Then Punch came at Haytham from the left, knowing that Haytham needed to waste precious seconds turning to parry the blow with his sword.

Punch didn't realise Haytham was ambidextrous. Haytham simply flipped his left wrist over and grabbed the murderer's hand. It was then that Haytham saw the ring on the man's finger: a silver band bearing the red Maltese cross of the Knights Templar. Haytham raised his captured sabre and drove it into Punch's chest.

The flames were coming too close, so Haytham abandoned the blade and ran for where he last saw Mother. Mother was exactly where he left her: collapsed on the ground, screaming and shaking. Haytham pulled Mother to her feet and ushered her out of the door, into Queen Anne's Square with the rest of the family.

The fire was strong enough to offer shadowy illumination on the street. Everyone was scattered around the green and the sound of commotion was everywhere. An angry voice screamed " _STOP!!_ " The scream came from one of the masked attackers, who was holding a knife to Jenny's throat.

Mother screamed and wailed at the sight. The attacker spun around at the sound, seeing Haytham and Tessa. The man ordered "Shut up!" and Mother complied.

Even if Haytham hadn't left his weapon in Mr Punch's chest, Jenny's throat would be cut before anyone could intervene. So Haytham turned Mother's face against his shoulder and nodded at the thug to signal his surrender. The fire began to eat the exterior walls of the house.

Jenny's captor demanded "Over on the green! Move it!"

Haytham gently moved Mother off the road and onto the square, keeping a safe distance from the captor. His companions hoisted their swag-bags and ran behind Jenny. It appeared the attackers were abandoning a specific bag, until Haytham realised the 'bag' was a woman's dead body.

A carriage rode into the street: a large one, enough for all of the attackers that had originally assaulted the house. The two thieves went into the carriage with their bags; the hostage-taker remained still to ensure Haytham's obedience. When his accomplices had loaded and boarded the carriage one called "Let's go!" The captor backed towards the carriage slowly, still using Jenny as a shield. Once he had stepped over the threshold the thug discarded his knife and pulled Jenny in after him.

 _Now_ Jenny screamed. _Now_ Haytham bolted for the carriage, trying to get aboard before the horses could get up to speed and into the night. He chased them all the way to Oxford Street only to find the carriage had vanished; the only vehicles were carts and wagons, plus the occasional ridden rather than hitched horse. Even in Eagle Vision there were no golden glows.

Like a disembodied ghost Haytham slowly walked back to the park, his hand covering the left side of his mouth where Mr Punch's blade had struck. The next thing he realised Mother was embracing him, then forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Where is Jenny? _Where is your father?!_ "

Haytham shook his head. "I'm sorry Mother...." His wounded mouth slurred his speech.

"No! _No!!_ " They embraced tightly, the embrace of the two lone survivors of a family that had been destroyed. Haytham did not let go even as Mother collapsed to the ground, screaming and wailing.

The smell of burning wood and pork overwhelmed Queen Anne's Square. Haytham realised there was no pork of any kind in the house which meant it was actually the smell of burning human flesh.


	5. Initiate

  The Barretts had alerted the authorities. The fire brigade doused the flames before they could spread but Haytham's childhood home was gone. It looked like a giant fist had come down from the sky and crushed it, leaving black residue everywhere. The Night Watch asked what happened: Haytham explained everything and omitted only the details of their Templar rings, the Kenways' Assassin heritage and Eagle Vision. Haytham listened as Mr Simpkin explained what happened after the staff were evacuated from the house. As the house began to burn the surviving intruders had emerged with their swag-bags; Jenny had led them in trying to stop the thieves but Edith had been killed in the process. Mr and Mrs Barrett insisted the Kenways stay at their house; their large brood were all stranded away from London, leaving plenty of empty rooms for the evacuees.

A doctor and surgeon were summoned to check on the survivors: they stitched Haytham's wound and provided a balm to help it heal. Haytham spent his sleepless night at Mother's side, looking out of the window at Queen Anne's Square. The view was similar yet different, as though all the trees and bushes had been re-arranged overnight. Moving his lips in any way caused Haytham painful, burning agony so he was forced to hold in his tears rather than pull his stitches. He looked forward to a hot breakfast but the smell of bacon made his stomach turn. He insisted on cleaning it himself simply for something to do.

 

Haytham knew Mr Crane would be arriving for his lessons the next morning. When the carriage appeared Haytham donned his coat and went outside; snow wasn't falling but the temperature remained stubbornly low. Crane was shocked at the ruined house and even more shocked when he saw the gash on Haytham's mouth. "Master Haytham! What the dickens happened to you?!" Then Crane realised "Your father?...."

Haytham shook his head. "I saw...." He stuttered when his mouth responded to all this movement with pain. "I saw their rings, Mr Crane. Templars. They broke in through the billiard room but we don't know what they've stolen yet."

Crane looked around. "Did your father show you his safe?"

Again Haytham shook his head. He knew there was a secret safe, just not where it was.

Crane led Haytham into the charcoal walls of the main hall, past the rubble of the billiard room, and into Father's study. Crane stopped to examine the door frame at the threshold, eaten by the fire. Haytham's gaze was drawn to a specific wall: the fire hadn't reached this spot yet a familiar bookcase was out of place, revealing a hidden room. _This_ was what the invaders were after, Haytham realised, the secret room where Father's Assassin work was confined.

Once Crane finished inspecting the door frame he went to the open bookcase, checked its mechanism and then looked inside. "Damn it, they've cleaned it out. The books, the chests.... Everything they could carry."

Haytham looked inside the safe. The room was five feet on each side and the shelves made it seem even smaller. There were two large chests still on the floor, one of which Haytham recognised as containing his training gauntlets. As he stared the safe Haytham muttered "They came from the neighbours' kennels. There were eight of them. Father killed two before.... I killed the murderer plus two others."

Crane stared at him. "You....Barely fourteen years old...." He seemed impressed. "And what did you think as you felled them, Master Haytham?"

"I.... I didn't really _think_ , sir. The first one was trying to hurt Mother, the second would have killed me. The third was the one who killed Father."

"To take a life is never an easy thing, certainly not at your tender age." He gestured Haytham out of the safe. "Obviously I won't be training you for a few weeks. For now I'll need to speak with your mother."

As Crane locked the vault behind him Haytham explained "Mr Crane, they took my sister Jenny as well last night. Is it possible we can find her? The Assassins, I mean."

"We'll certainly try. Have the authorities been informed?"

"Of the intruders and the kidnapping, yes, but not about the Assassins and Templars. Should we tell them about the missing books?"

"No. Those books are for Assassin eyes only, and once we find your sister we will find the books."

Haytham showed Mr Crane to Mother's room (introducing Crane as his tutor to the Barretts). Mother instructed Haytham to wait downstairs, as she always did whenever she wanted to spare Haytham some boring adult business. Miss Davy remained at Mother's side. When Haytham checked on the staff he discovered several had deserted Queen Anne's Square, never to be seen again. Only Mr Simpkin, Mrs Searle and Laura (and Miss Davy, of course) were remaining in the Barretts' house. Worse, those who remained all seemed to stare at him, silently demanding _what happens now?_ Haytham could feel the burden of responsibility for all of them being forced upon him.

So while Mr Crane and Mother were still talking, Haytham spoke to his assembled staff. Their priority was to secure a more permanent home, to have a place where they could move their surviving possessions and provide a more stable environment for Mother. Mr Simpkin, as Father's assistant, knew the most about the Kenway property holdings and volunteered to make the arrangements. Haytham tasked Mrs Seale with informing Edith's family of what happened, and then organise the funerals. Laura was to inform Digweed of what happened and then assist the others. Miss Davy was not at the meeting but it was obvious where she needed to be: at Mother's side.

It took several hours for Mr Crane to emerge from Mother's room and he then took Haytham aside to speak in private. "If I'm to tell you about what happens next, I need to formally swear you in as an Assassin Initiate. Technically these are secrets only available to members of the Brotherhood. We don't have the full regalia, but I believe you're ready." Haytham slowly nodded his assent. "Haytham Edward Kenway, do you swear to uphold the principles of our Order, and all that for which we stand?

"I do."

"To never divulge our secrets, nor the true nature of our work?"

"I do."

"And to do so from now until death, regardless of cost?"

"I do."

Crane extended his hand. "Then we welcome you in our quest for a world based on freedom and equality." They shook hard. "Now the formalities are over I'll explain what happens in times like this. When a family member is kidnapped our priority is to keep the victim alive as long as possible. We do this by invoking the legend of the Chalice." Crane explained that since the Crusades the Assassins had planted bogus documents explaining the cipher that encoded their most dangerous secrets was code-named the _Chalice_ and that the key to decrypting this cipher was split amongst multiple 'bearers' for further security. Now that Jenny was kidnapped, the Assassins would spread the word that a precious 'chalice' was amongst the treasures taken from Queen Anne's Square and prepare additional forgeries confirming that Jenny was a Chalice-bearer. "Our spies will report whomever tries to access the Chalice forgeries; through them we can find Jenny's captors."

"Thank you Mr Crane."

"Robert, please."

"Thank you Robert."

"Do you have somewhere to stay in the longer term?"

"Mr Simpkin is making arrangements."

"Good." Crane produced one of his business cards. "If you need anything my door is always open."

Haytham spent the rest of the evening with Mother as they tried to work through the grief. That night Haytham slumbered only because he was too tired to hold his eyelids open. He dreamed of being trapped in the burning house as the flames consumed his face.

 

***

The undertakers were able to identify Father's body because his signet ring bore the Assassin rather than Templar insignia. Father's effects were returned but they never seemed to be rid of the stink of burnt flesh. (Or was that only because Haytham's wounded mouth tasted of roast pork? Haytham wasn't sure.) The intruders were burned beyond recognition so they were dumped in a pauper's grave. Couriers had been dispatched to Herefordshire but no-one knew if the roads were still passable.

On the Friday after the fire a carriage from the City Watch arrived: on board was Jenny, wrapped in a blanket. Even Mother was able to come downstairs and welcome Jenny back to the house. This time they sobbed with joy for Jenny's return from the dead. Although Jenny was clearly weak from lack of food and sleep, although she had been beaten and bound and gagged, she was effectively fine. It must have been the first time in Haytham's life that he was glad and relieved to see his older sister.

When Jenny was ready Haytham summoned Robert Crane, and together they listened to Jenny's story. "After they bundled me into the carriage they pulled another knife so I wouldn't scream. They emptied one of their bags and put it over my head so I wouldn't be able to see where I was going. When the carriage stopped one of them stayed guard while the others found rope to bind and gag me. They dragged me into a storehouse and kept me there. The one who actually pulled me into the carriage was the leader, they all called him 'sir'. Another one was John; the third had a West Country accent, his name was Phil. I don't know what happened to the driver. They argued over what to do with me: the leader wanted to kill me so I couldn't talk but Phil and John wouldn't let him. They decided to hold me until they covered their tracks, then they'd let me go. But the leader....He.... John and his leader wanted to violate me. Phil tried to defend me but the other two.... Phil cut my bonds and told me to run."

Haytham stood and looked out of the window, clenching his fists in anger. Crane said "Jenny, we think the men who took you were Templars. If we take you back to where you were found, do you think you could find the warehouse again?"

Jenny wiped the wetness from her eyes. "Of course."

Crane's carriage took them to Whitechapel, where the City Watch had said they discovered Jenny. Haytham stood by her, offering what little protection he could from the horrible memories. Jenny retraced her steps to an unmarked warehouse; the door was unlocked and when they went inside the area was empty except for a dead body lying on the ground.

Crane went to the dead man first, examining his body and then his hand. "Templar. And he's been shot."

Jenny said "That's Phil."

Haytham could see the body was wearing the same garb as one of the thugs from Queen Anne's Square, although his face was unmasked.

Crane ushered Jenny and Haytham out of the warehouse. "We'll get a proper team in to investigate. Meanwhile Miss Jenny, let's take you home."

 

Next Wednesday, 27 February, was Edith's funeral. Haytham noticed that Mrs Seale didn't attend, but then the two women were never really close. Funerals and wakes hadn't changed since Irene and Will died: all these strange people Haytham barely knew speaking of memories he didn't share; bad food he was obliged to eat as it was the only lunch he would get.

Mr Digweed arrived at Queen Anne's Square on the evening of the 28th, obviously shocked at finding the house burned and abandoned. Mr Simpkin explained what happened and Digweed clearly suffered knowing he had been trapped by the weather instead of at his post when the disaster struck. They all forgave him (if one could forgive a blameless man) but Digweed could not forgive himself.

And then on Friday the 29th Edward Kenway was interred alongside Irene and William. The only difference between Edith's funeral and Father's was that _everyone_ wanted to shake Haytham's hand, spend ten minutes speaking of memories he didn't share, then introduce him to more strangers who shared more stories of Father. Haytham was naturally shy and being the centre of attention for all these people made it all worse.

The day after Edward's funeral, Crane arrived at the Barretts, asked for Haytham and took him for a stroll in Queen Anne's Square. "I understand you move on Monday?"

"To Bristol, yes. Mr Simpkin, Mrs Seale and Miss Davy are coming with us; Laura and Mr Digweed are leaving for pastures new. I was wondering Robert....how will my training continue?"

"That depends. I can either follow you to Bristol and train you there, or you can board with me in Hampstead. It won't be an easy decision so I'll let you take your time to decide. But there is one thing I'm concerned about.... The raid on you home. I think....I think your sister helped arrange it with the Templars. Her story about the Templar letting her go, I just don't believe it. Remember she said the leader tried to assault her? Templars don't ignore their leader's instructions, they take pleasure in them. What sort of kidnapper rejects the opportunity to ravish his victim?" Haytham winced at the description. "I'm sorry Haytham but.... Look, you take the next few weeks to decide about your training. You have my address if you need me."

 

They spent the weekend packing, discarding what was ruined and keeping what was not. The luggage was loaded onto a wagon, which the staff would take via Reading and Swindon to the old Kenway house in Bristol. Haytham, Mother and Jenny took a different carriage the next day and travelled via Basingstoke and Bath, travelling under the name Stephenson. Haytham could hardly use his distinctly Arabic first name so Jenny dubbed him _Ken_.

As they travelled Haytham tried to run through the scenario that Robert Crane described: that somehow Jenny had informed the Templars of Father's safe, had allowed herself to be captured, had only pretended to escape. Superficially yes it was possible, as it was possible that Crane himself had betrayed them. But Crane didn't have the intimate knowledge of the household routine that Haytham had. Even if Jenny _could_ have contacted the Templars without Father, Mother or Haytham himself noticing, why was she asleep in her room as usual instead of guiding the Templars to the safe? Crane said he didn't believe that a Templar would protect a hostage from their fellows, especially when it went against their instructions. But was it so difficult to believe the Templars, like all rational human beings, felt pain when they did wrong? Was it impossible for the 'good Templar' to decide that raping a captive was truly evil for evil's sake? That Phil remembered his long-maligned ability to choose and used it to return to righteousness?


	6. Servant

  They were half-way to Bristol when the stitches in Haytham's lips fell out, two weeks after the fire.The scar that remained tended to tug in his skin;physically it wasn't painful or even uncomfortable but its presence was a reminder of that terrible night.At that point Haytham had learned to smile and emote with only the right side of his mouth to avoid irritating the wound andthis habit persisted for the rest of his life.

The house in Bristol was where Jenny had grown up, the house Father had owned when he was courting Tessa. Everyone knew the layout of the house except Haytham, who kept forgetting this wasn't Queen Anne's Square and ending up in the wrong room. Although the house was filled with familiar things and familiar people, it still felt foreign to Haytham. Once the family had settled in Haytham explained "Robert Crane has offered to allow me to live with him in London and finish my education. I want to know what you think I should do."

Jenny asked "Why can't he come to Bristol?"

"He can," Haytham began.

Mother said "Except Haytham has spent his whole life in London and he doesn't remember Bristol. He wants to return home."

Haytham looked down in shame. That was true but Crane's offer to stay in London _also_ meant Haytham could live away from Jenny.

"Then why don't you?" Jenny challenged, "As if we can't look after ourselves here with three staff."

"Much as it pains me to say it, dear sister, you're still family and I want to do right by you." Jenny didn't have a reply to that one.

Mother assured "Whatever you choose will have my blessing, darling."

"But _should_ I leave you now, so soon after we've moved here? So soon after Father...."

Mother gave a sad smile. "You were always going to leave home, and it was always going to be too soon. But leaving won't be forever: we'll still be able to write and you'll still be able to visit—which you _will_ do, because I expect to celebrate your birthday and Christmas _here_."

Haytham half-smiled. "Of course. And I'll visit Father and Irene and Will for you both."

Haytham announced the move that evening, when the household had gathered for dinner. He took his time to pack but left his most important possessions (old journals, childhood trinkets, mementos of Irene, Will and Father) in Bristol. One day when Haytham was alone Jenny approached him.

"I expect you idolised Father. Or _idolise_ , since you still do. Your sun and moon? 'My father the king'? And now at last you take your place as his _male heir_. Well I hated him. All his talk of spiritual and intellectual freedom didn't extend to his own daughters. Irene and I never received any weapons training, remember? No 'think differently' speeches, just 'be a good girl and I'll find you a nice husband'. Rest assured Straw, our lives were mapped out for us long before we were born. What was in store for you is obvious, but for me it wasn't _what_ but _who_. My entire life was spent learning how to serve and please men. Did Father notice that his world was one of tyranny and slavery for women? Of course not, he was too busy marrying a woman _barely older_ _than_ _I am_!"

Haytham slapped her. "Insult me all you like Jenny but leave Mother out of it!"

Jenny leaned her cheek on her hand. "Shall I tell you all the stories _my_ mother said about Edward Kenway?"

" _After_ you tell me about your betrothal, and how long it took the poor suitor to end the match."

"Haystack!"

"Daughter!"

" _That's enough!!_ Both of you!" It was Mother, drawn by all the commotion.

Haytham stepped back from Jenny and put his hands behind his back. Jenny stepped back from Haytham and crossed her arms over her chest.

Mother demanded "Did you strike her, Haytham?"

She only used his first name in public or when he was in trouble. "Yes Mother, she—"

"I don't care what she said: words are countered with words, not violence. You will wait on Jenny as her personal servant until first light tomorrow."

That was the standard punishment for sibling abuse in the Kenway household. Behind his back Haytham squeezed his interlocked fingers. "Yes Mother."

"Jenny: I expect an adult such as yourself to put away childish things."

"Yes Tessa."

As anticipated Jenny drove Haytham like a slave, not permitting him any sleep during his indenture. Haytham endured it with misery as always, until a strange realisation came over him: _this was the last week he would live with Jenny_. His brain had always understood this but it seemed only now that the information reached his heart. Suddenly Haytham felt a sense of contentment, even nostalgia, and he went about his duties with perfect etiquette, diction and obedience.

Even after his punishment Haytham remained silent and unresponsive in Jenny's presence. If she provoked or insulted him Haytham said only "Seven April Seventeen-Forty," the date he was scheduled to depart Bristol.

 

Robert Crane lived in the small township of Hampstead, north of London, with his wife Sally. Crane's own children were now grown and lived elsewhere; their home was comfortably large for two people but somewhat cramped for three. Schooling was the only familiar thing that remained after the fire: again Haytham received his Assassin tuition on weekdays and had the weekends to himself. Crane would join him at the graveyard on Father's birthday but Haytham marked those of Irene and Will alone. Haytham always journeyed to Bristol in time for them to celebrate his own birthday, stayed for Christmas and then returned to Hampstead.

Haytham simply missed Mother but he utterly grieved for Father and his childhood home. The pain never stopped, merely mellowed from aching to acute. Somehow the loss of Edith, his governess since childhood, was less painful than the loss of Father, or even Irene and Will. It took forever for Haytham to realise this wasn't due to callousness or a lack of empathy: he had simply lost so much so quickly that he didn't have any grief left in him.

So that Haytham could gain direct experience working with the Brotherhood, Crane allowed him to join them for the investigation in to the raid on Queen Anne's Square. Since Jenny had been returned to them they had abandoned the forgeries that named her as a Chalice-bearer and instead concentrated on recovering the items taken from the safe.

Crane explained "Some of the items are of only monetary value, some of historical value, others are copies of the secret histories of the Assassins and Templars. But the truly irreplaceable item is the Clay Codex."

Haytham imagined a series of clay tablets bound like a book. "Is it really made of clay?"

"No, it's a normal leather-bound book of vellum. It's called the Clay Codex because the very first page has only two words: _Kazmarik Clay_ , whatever that means. Some pages have writing that is only visible in Eagle Vision and your father was copying that writing for us; unfortunately the Templars also took the transcripts."

Crane had already voiced his suspicions that Jenny had betrayed the Kenway family and Haytham found himself in the strange position of defending her. Yes the Templars had chosen the best time to strike, yes they knew the best route to approach and the obstacles they would encounter, even the location of Father's safe. Haytham could have discovered these things alone if he chose to; surely the Templars could do the same?

Assassin Wheedon asked "Was there _anyone_ in the house who could have betrayed you, Haytham?"

It was still painful to remember the raid but enough time had passed that the worst agonies were dulled. Haytham said "Father never even revealed the existence of the safe except to his trusted staff; Mrs Seale and Laura certainly didn't know. Mr Simpkin and Miss Davy maybe, but they spent their entire working days with Father and Mother. If they tried to betray us they would've been caught."

"What about the woman who was killed?"

"Edith, my governess. _I_ would have noticed if she tried to do something unusual, so unless I'm in on the conspiracy as well...." They all laughed. And then Haytham realised "There was someone who _wasn't_ at the house that night, though. Mr Digweed always goes to Herefordshire for Christmas, he has family there. Father knew Digweed from before we came to London, so maybe...."

 

They started by investigating the London flat Digweed had left as a forwarding address. It existed but the landlord didn't know anyone matching Digweed's description, nor had he accepted a new tenant since the fire. Haytham still had Digweed's address in Herefordshire and so they journeyed to the West Country. When they got there Digweed and his family were gone, having moved virtually as soon as he retired.

Digweed had not tried to cover his tracks. He was taking his wife and children, along with all their possessions, north through Birmingham to Liverpool. It was here the trail grew cold: it had been months since Digweed had passed through this area and there was no way of knowing which ship he had boarded. Although the bird had flown, Crane and the others were pleased that Haytham had been able to unmask him.

"There is little more we can do now, Haytham. We will spread the word that Digweed is a suspected Templar agent and keep watch for him, but until he surfaces we must move on."

The truth was Haytham was glad. Even now they had no actual evidence that Digweed had betrayed them, only that he had decided to depart on a ship with his family and possessions via Liverpool. For all Haytham knew, Digweed had chosen to retire overseas. Were their suspicions about Digweed any more valid than suspicions of Haytham himself?

 

***

The pranks Haytham's body began to play were hardly welcome but at least they were a distraction. The jack-in-the-box below his belt kept wetting the bed; his mouth started producing every conceivable noise _except_ clear speech. The latter, at least, only lasted for a few months and by his 16th birthday Haytham's voice had stabilised into a dark, rich sound. Haytham's jaw grew angular but hair stubbornly refused to grow upon it.The hair on his scalp was thin and coarse so he grew it long and tied it back in a _queue_ with the (slightly pointed) tips of his ears visible. Wigs always irritated his scalp so he never wore them. At least the taste of burning flesh had finally left his tongue.

Once the growth spurts were over Crane added techniques such as lock-picking and devices such as bombs to the curriculum. The tinkering involved helped Haytham to keep his fingers busy and his mind relaxed. Mostly Crane's tuition was similar to Father's—praise for performance, correction for errors—but whenever the subject turned to how evil the Templars were and how noble the Assassins were, Crane sounded like Old Mr Fayling during Scriptures.

Crane did not have Eagle Vision himself but he did include exercises for Haytham to improve and master his ability. With practise Haytham began to perceive messages that had been written down and then removed or even blotted over. As long as the original message was simply defaced and not written over with a more recent one, it would glow a convenient green in Eagle Vision.

Eventually the obvious question came up. "Robert do you know anything about how Eagle Vision works? Father only said that it was a family trait."

Crane pressed his lips together. "I can't explain it all Haytham, not until you have formally earned your Gauntlets." To lessen the disappointment he offered "Your mother has the gift because her family has the blood of Great Mentor Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad in her veins. We also believe that your father descends from Great Mentor Ezio Auditore...."

Haytham only pretended to listen to the rest. The past deeds and glories of the Assassins were another subject where Crane tended to ramble like a zealot.

 

In 1743 Crane announced that Haytham was being measured up for new clothes. Special emphasis seemed to be placed on his face and forearms; once the tailor was satisfied Haytham asked what the new garment was. "The robes and gauntlets you will wear when you are formally accepted as an Assassin."

Haytham's Assassin Gauntlets were crafted and were checked for size but Haytham was not permitted to actually own them until after the ceremony. The robe was granted to him immediately: a loose-fitting knee-length white cloak with a low, peaked hood and a red sash around the waist. Haytham had seen the other Assassins wear variants of the robe during their 'normal' working days. Crane explained "Traditionally the robes with the peaked hood served as the Assassins' working uniform in the Crusades. These days they are only mandatory for the special events, but most Assassins use a variation of it as their working uniform."

Crane walked Haytham through the details of the formal ceremony: he would stand on a podium before the assembled Assassins and speak the vows, and the Mentor of the British Assassins would formally pass Haytham his own Assassin Gauntlets. Haytham would be expected to don the weapons himself, a symbol of how an Assassin's service is volunteered and never compelled.

The ceremony was tedious more than anything: Haytham spent hours standing in a formal pose, listening to words he had heard a thousand times in rehearsal. At long last the Mentor stood before Haytham, speaking the cue for the millionth time that day. "Although you have been raised in accordance with our customs, we will not force upon you a burden you do not wish to bear. Consider carefully, for if you accept you will be bound to the Assassins until death."

Haytham had confronted the possibility of abandoning his studies several times since the fire. Or rather _tried_ to, since every time he choked on the idea of abandoning his fellow men to tyranny and injustice. He had to fight the evil in the world the same way he _had_ to sleep when he grew tired: he was physically incapable of doing anything less. And so he made the vow. "I will shield the innocent from any suffering. I will take revenge upon the tyrants of the world. I will move unseen and strike when my enemies least expect. I will live in darkness to serve the light. I am Haytham Edward Kenway; and like my father and grandfathers before me, I am an Assassin."

 

Haytham and the other newly-graduated Assassins enjoyed the obligatory celebration at a pricey Covent Garden inn. When they had their fill of food and drink, the senior Assassins presented a series of room keys and explained the graduates could have their fill of the high-class prostitutes they'd hired for the occasion. Haytham took one and went to the appropriate room; inside, on the bed, was a dazzling beauty who called herself Sabine. Haytham closed and locked the door behind him and turned to the bed; but the uncertainty of what happened next, plus the typical first-night nerves and his innate shyness, prevented Haytham from moving. Sabine cooed "You've never done this before, have you?"

Haytham swallowed and looked to the floor.

Sabine walked towards him, took his hand and smiled. "Then let me do the work." She led him onto the bed and began to open his coat. Once his chest was bare Sabine lay him onto the bed and began to undress him from his boots. Haytham could only stretch out his arms and try to breathe. When she straddled his abdomen she was naked; he shuddered and his eyes bulged. Sabine must have seen his nerves taking over as she pinned him down and whispered "Relax...."

" _How?_ "

They both chuckled. Sabine took both his hands and placed them on her breasts, guiding him to stroke and fondle them. "Is that better?" It certainly was. Haytham brushed his fingers and palms against her smooth, firm contours. Seductively she edged closer and closer to his throbbing groin and Haytham felt as though he were floating in the air. When Sabine sheathed him he sat up with a cry of pain; she gave a wicked laugh and began to ride him. Haytham's screams for release went unanswered until the explosion of hot, wet pleasure rendered him senseless. By the time he recovered Sabine was gone.

His curiosity about the act (and the physical urge) was satisfied, yet the experience felt empty. Sabine had the utter disinterest of someone unthinkingly going through their training drills and that spoiled the whole business. It seemed sex was better when it didn't involve other people.

 

***

The white hooded robes of the Assassins were mandatory for ceremonial occasions but Haytham didn't like using them as a day-to-day uniform. An Assassin's work would only get blood and dirt all over his clothes and this would draw attention to him. Instead Haytham wore a set of black robes with blue highlights and golden trim, cut from the same pattern as the standard robes. Haytham's robes included the traditional peaked hood but he rarely wore it up; instead he preferred a tricorne hat.

Crane couldn't get past the idea of eschewing the hood. "You can't just abandon five centuries of tradition!"

To divert yet another lecture Haytham said "Robert, you promised you'd tell me about Eagle Vision."

"That I did, Haytham. First I need to tell you more about our ancestors during the Crusades, when they first discovered the Templars' conspiracies."

 

Robert's story began at the cusp of the 1200s, when the Assassins were only what history recorded: a minority sect with a propensity for stalking and killing both Christian and Moslem targets. History did not know that the goal of the Assassins then was to shorten the conflict by destroying key commanders from both sides. As part of this campaign the Assassins captured a treasure belonging to the Knights Templar: a golden orb known as the Apple Of Eden.

"The apple of the Tree Of Knowledge?"

"Or at least the original inspiration behind the Adam and Eve story. It's not an actual apple, more a sphere like the Sovereign's Orb. It also has the power to literally control men's minds, to turn them into soulless shells that obey only the Apple's bearer. It is through the Apple the Templars hope to make the world their slaves."

Haytham choked on his disbelief. He thought the Templars aimed for a world-wide absolute monarchy; that was bad enough but to literally rob men of their individuality....

Robert continued "The Apple isn't magical, it just uses knowledge and techniques lost centuries ago. Like the Red Indian confronted with muskets for the first time, we barely understand these wondrous yet terrible artefacts wrought by those who came before."

"Before what?"

"Before us. Before Europe, before humans, before _everything_. They are remembered now only as the gods and demons in the various religions of the world."

"Father said that Eagle Vision was something that belonged to families descended from gods."

Crane nodded. "At some point their bloodline mixed with humans, and their children have Eagle Vision. And then, somehow, they completely vanished from this Earth. No-one knows how or why."

"But the Apple remains safe?"

" _One_ Apple does. There's more than one, and there was once a staff with similar powers. Perhaps there are even more artefacts we don't know about. This is one reason we keep stealing each other's research: to capture new Pieces Of Eden before the other side does. But these artefacts are strictly the domains of the Disciples and Masters; the Templars employ far more mundane means in their mad quest and so must we."


End file.
